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Filtering by Category: Writing by Teens

NaPoWriMo Poem by You #24: Shards by Marcus Tschoe

Sarah and Jeff Boyle

"Glass Detail, Basilique Notre-Dame de Montréal, Montreal, QC" by Tadson Bussey. Via  Flickr  and courtesy of a  Creative Commons  license.

"Glass Detail, Basilique Notre-Dame de Montréal, Montreal, QC" by Tadson Bussey. Via Flickr and courtesy of a Creative Commons license.

Shards

The stained glass windows
of churches, mosques, and synagogues
places of purity and inner peace
but driving hate,
but also stained glass images--
a wife, some children, with a small house
broken into colorful
shards of
dead dreams,
For a small sliver
of holy land soaked in the pure blood of the young and innocent,
in a bustling desert of millions
driven by different images in a stained glass window
that shall never see
peace.

by Marcus Tschoe, grade 7, Hawthorne Scholastic Academy

NaPoWriMo Poem by You #23: Knock Knock by Grant Isom

Sarah and Jeff Boyle

"Knocker," by Nico Crisafulli. Via  Flickr  and courtesy a  Creative Commons  license.

"Knocker," by Nico Crisafulli. Via Flickr and courtesy a Creative Commons license.

Knock Knock

Six winters ago I escaped frozen Chicago
Delighted to leave behind the snow
And trade it with an escape to the Sunshine State
Where I’d find my uncle’s smile
Beaming even more brightly than the Florida sun
My eyes widened and my heart expanded
Greeting me with open arms
It felt like my second home
Cracking a knock knock joke as he always did
Now he’s forever gone
But I pass his jokes on
To my siblings he hardly knew
Knock Knock. Who’s there?
I wish you were, my dear Uncle Mike
Do the angels find you funny, too?

by Grant Isom, grade 7, Hawthorne Scholastic Academy

NaPoWriMo Poem by You #22: Understanding by Cassie Kayser

Sarah and Jeff Boyle

"Drawbridge" by Salim Virji. Via  Flickr  and courtesy of a  Creative Commons license . 

"Drawbridge" by Salim Virji. Via Flickr and courtesy of a Creative Commons license

Understanding

Heard the noise
Saw the lights,
flashing.
So we pulled
into a parking lot in Wisconsin,
watched
as the bridge shuddered
and pulled itself
open.

Spring, 
but not quite.
My grandmother 
and I shivered,
winds blowing strong
Then it came, 
a big ship
gliding slowly 
over the still-icy water.
We sat there, 
slowly taking in the air,
letting out little clouds 
of steam.

My grandmother sighed
as the bridge creaked
And pulled itself together again.
Beautiful, I had said.
Yes, she had replied.

by Cassie Kayser, grade 7, Hawthorne Scholastic Academy